


Pour Some Birthday Love On Me

by halfsweet



Series: Happy Family AU [4]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Comfort, Family Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 13:36:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7107073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfsweet/pseuds/halfsweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not like Pete is a psychic or has a gut instinct that is correct, like, 90% of the time, but he knows he's about to face a pretty shitty day when he wakes up that morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pour Some Birthday Love On Me

**Author's Note:**

> I combined 2 requests into this:
> 
> 1: What if Pete's just having a bunch of rotten luck, and just when he thinks it couldn't get any worse he has to go to the hospital because of appendicitis? 
> 
> 2: How about celebrating birthday since Pete's birthday is coming up. I'm thinking something like Pete is in a very happy mood because it is his birthday. But to his dismay, everybody seems to forget. But what he doesn't know they have planned everything for him.
> 
> I didn't double check this, so pardon any mistake. Enjoy!

It's not like Pete is a psychic or has a gut instinct that is correct, like, 90% of the time, but he knows he's about to face a pretty shitty day when he wakes up that morning.

First clue, Patrick's not next to him, sleeping.

Second clue, Patrick leaves him a note, informing him that he's going to the studio to help with some artist that Pete doesn't remember the name of, so Pete has to keep an eye on their three kids all by himself.

Third clue, that's all Patrick wrote. Nothing more, nothing less. Just merely a _'Hey, heading to studio today. Love you.'_

Surely Patrick doesn't forget what's on that particular day, right?

 _Of course he doesn't,_ Pete assures himself. Patrick wouldn't forget his own husband's slash best friend's slash band mate's birthday.

Pete sighs and places the note back on the nightstand, rolling on his stomach and closing his eyes. So much for a few rounds of awesome sex to start off his birthday.

Well, if he can't have that, he might as well sleep a little longer. Who knows, maybe when he wakes up, everything is just a dream and Patrick's still sleeping next to him.

He's about to fall asleep when a sharp, familiar cry breaks through the walls of the house. He groans and counts to three before heaving himself up from the bed, tending to one, soon to be two, crying babies.

Not only does Pete have to kiss his morning birthday sex goodbye, he also have to kiss the extra hour of sleep goodbye, too.

That's his fourth clue.

-

"Dad, I'm hungry," Bronx whines as he slouches on the kitchen island, watching his father pacing between the stove and the fridge trying to make pancakes. "Are you finished yet?"

Pete makes a mental note to stock up on cereal. If they hadn't run out on cereal, then Pete would have had a nice, calm breakfast with his family, rather than running back and forth to make pancakes and feed Saint and Declan at the same time.

"Almost," Pete responds, pouring the batter on the pan, then runs to Saint and Declan - both seated on their high-chairs - to feed them.

"Come on, little man. Open your mouth." Pete scoops the baby food with a small spoon and holds it near Saint's mouth. Saint whines and moves away from the spoon, waving his tiny arms wildly so Pete can't feed him.

Pete sighs at his son and drops the spoon into the bowl, then turns to Saint, tapping him on the nose. "I will get you to finish this later, okay, little man?"

Saint grins and claps his hands, squealing. Pete proceeds to turn to Declan, who scowls at the bowl of food in front of him.

 _Uh oh._ Pete knows that's not a good sign.

"Hey, baby D. This is really yummy," Pete coos, putting on a wide smile on his face in hopes that Declan will follow suit.

Because an unhappy Declan is the same as unhappy Patrick.

And an unhappy Patrick is a _giant pain in the ass._

But Pete still loves him nevertheless.

Declan starts to thrash in his seat, wanting to get down and play with his brand new toy that his mommy bought for him. "No!" He shouts, shaking the chair even more, causing the bowl to drop to the floor, food splattering on Pete's feet.

"Oh, f- fudge." Pete stops himself just in time before the three of them can catch the slip. If he accidentally slipped, and one of them catches the word, then Pete's life is officially over.

Especially if that _one_ is Declan.

He begins to imagine Patrick, who has just come back from the studio and is ready to spend time with his family, cooing to Declan and suddenly-

_"Fuck!"_

Pete can literally hear Declan's small voice exclaiming happily, giggling at his daddy's horrified face before repeating the word again and again.

After doing some calculation in his head, the punishment is worth about a full 24 hours of angry yelling, _at least_ two weeks of silent treatment,and a lifetime ban from sex and exiled to _The Couch™_.

And Pete doesn't want that. He can deal with the angry yelling- his current record is five hours of Patrick shouting and nagging in his ears. Although, at hour one, Pete already feels like tying Patrick up in a chair and duct tape his mouth until he calms down. But, the main point is, Pete can deal with the yelling.

Silent treatment? He can pretend that Patrick's on vocal rest.

But no sex? _For the rest of his life?_ That's where Pete draws the line.

" _Daaaaad._ The pancake is burning."

Pete runs to the stove, quickly turning it off. The air is filled with the smell of burnt pancakes, followed by the sound of Declan screaming something unintelligible.

Just like his daddy when he gets mad. Declan is shaping up to be a mini-Patrick in no time.

Then, Saint, probably because he has nothing better to do, joins his step-brother in a screaming contest to see who can scream the loudest.

" _Daaaaad, I'm still hungry._ "

Pete sighs sullenly. This is _not_ how he wants to spend his birthday.

-

After minutes of leaning over the toilet bowl, heaving and throwing up, Pete wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and flushes the toilet. He staggers a little when he tries to stand, room spinning in his eyes, but he manages to grab the edge of the counter to balance himself.

When he feels like his head has cleared up, he walks over to the sink and brushes his teeth, getting rid of the vomit taste in his mouth.

His stroke of bad luck just continues to add throughout the day. He's been having a sharp pain in his abdomen for a few hours now, and it's gotten to a point where he felt like throwing up.

He shrugs it off, figuring that it's probably just a small case of gastric.

That still doesn't explain the sudden chillness in his body.

After rinsing his mouth, Pete wants nothing to do but sleep, but he knows it's just a wishful thinking. He still needs to watch the kids, and he can only hope that Patrick gets home fast so he can sleep. He doesn't care about his birthday anymore.

Pete just wants silence and sleep.

He has tried calling Patrick, but the latter doesn't pick up his phone. So, Pete turns to the next best option, Meagan- who, apparently, is in another state. He calls Elisa next, and is faced with the same result.

He considers calling Joe, but he doesn't want to intrude in on his family time. He knows Joe has been missing his wife and daughter after months of touring.

Andy? Andy lives far away. Pete couldn't make Andy book a plane and take care of the kids just because he wants a few hours of sleep.

Maybe Brendon and Sarah can help. The couple adores the kids, and the kids adore them just as much.

Before he can call Brendon, a high-pitch cry from the living room catches his attention. Pete immediately rushes out with an alarmed look on his face. "What happened?"

He spots Bronx on the couch, playing a game and not taking his eyes off of the television. Bronx shrugs at his father's question before stating the obvious. "Declan's crying."

Pete sighs at his son and crouches down to pick Declan up in his arms, and it doesn't take him more than five seconds to figure out why Declan's crying. "Let's get you changed, baby D."

He glances around the room one more time, looking for Saint, and finally notices him sitting between Bronx and the arm of the couch, playing with a controller that isn't connected.

"Look after Saint for a while, okay?" Pete looks at his eldest son, who gives him a non-committal reply, still engrossed with his game.

Pete heads to the kids' room, grabbing a diaper, then makes a beeline to the bathroom. Declan hasn't stopped crying, and his face has gone red. Pete has no idea why Declan is acting up suddenly, but he pushes it aside and tries to focus on changing his diaper.

But even that has become an almost impossible task for Pete since Declan kicks his leg around whenever Pete tries to get him out of his pants. Pete attempts to sing to him to calm him down, but it only makes him cry louder.

Pete takes a deep breath and counts to ten to calm himself down. The sharp pain in his abdomen returns, and he winces. "Declan, come on, please?" Pete says in a soft voice, brushing the youngling's forehead. "Your Dad's really tired, so please stop crying."

To his dismay, the cry doesn't stop. "Declan- Declan- please- Declan!"

The crying stops, now reduced to quiet sniffles and the occasional hiccups, and the look on Declan's face crushes Pete's heart. He swallows, avoiding looking at Declan's face, and changes his diaper in silence.

Declan doesn't put up much of a fight, he just lies there, letting Pete do whatever that is needed. As Pete places him on the couch next to Bronx, he tries not to take it to heart when Declan immediately turns in his seat, facing his back to Pete.

Pete pinches the bridge of his nose and goes to lie on the two-seater couch, folding his legs and getting into a comfortable position. At least the house is now quiet, except for the sound effects of the game Bronx is playing.

-

Pete curls in on himself as he feels that same, sharp pain once again. This time, it lasts longer than what Pete assumes is ten seconds. A whimper escapes his lips when the pain becomes unbearable.

"Pete?"

The said man opens his eyes slowly, staring at the blurry figure in front of him until it becomes clear. "Trick…? You're back…" Pete doesn't have any energy left in his body, so his voice comes out as a whisper.

"Hey, you okay?" Patrick's concerned voice manages to turn Pete's mood downside up. He sighs at the feeling of Patrick's cool fingers in his hair and shakes his head. "Really hurts. Can you drive me to the hospital?"

"Sure. Come on, let me get you up."

Patrick slides his arm around Pete's waist, and Pete places his arm around Patrick's shoulder, leaning into the younger man. He closes his eyes and rests his head on Patrick's shoulder, body too weak to hold himself up.

"Bronx, can you help your brothers get into the car?"

"Okay."

Pete can't focus on anything other than the pain he's been feeling the whole day. The whole, _shitty_ day. Which just so happens to be his _birthday._

The next thing he knows, they're already at the hospital. Patrick is filling out the form at the counter, while Bronx takes on his older brother responsibility: taking care of the younger two, who are seated on Bronx's lap, his arms guarding the two protectively to his chest.

Patrick rubs a soothing hand on his back, and Pete leans into the touch. They're waiting for the doctor to call Pete's name, and when his name finally gets called, Pete hopes that the pain will go away soon.

"What seems to be the matter, Mr Wentz?" The doctor asks, his back straightened and looking all professional. Pete's not going to lie. He does feel a little intimidated by the doctor, and he's grateful that Patrick's there with him.

"I've been feeling this pain the whole day, and it was so painful that I threw up," Pete says slowly, squeezing Patrick's hand as the pain attacks him again.

"Can you show me where you feel the pain?"

Pete nods and points to his lower right abdomen. The doctor writes something in his clipboard, then turns to Pete. "Have you been feeling feverish?"

Pete nods once again, not able to open his mouth to answer.

"Okay. So, we need to run a few tests, then we'll be able to determine the cause. Is that okay with you, Mr Wentz?"

By this point, Pete would do anything to get rid of the pain. He nods again, doing whatever the doctor or the nurse asks him to. And the entire time, Patrick hasn't left his side once.

Once they're done, the doctor lets him rest on the bed. Pete wastes no time getting under the sheet, closing his eyes as his head lands on the pillow.

"Get some rest, Pete. We'll be here when you wake up."

That's the last thing Pete hears before sleep takes over him.

-

Pete's eyes fluttered open, and he quickly squeezes his eyes shut at the bright light, groaning. He opens his eyes slowly this time, eyes slowly adjusting to the light.

"Hey, you're awake."

The first thing Pete sees after being temporary blind is Patrick's smiling face. He smiles back at him. "What happened?"

"Well, Mr Wentz, it seemed you were diagnosed with appendicitis. We got you into surgery to remove the appendix before it can get worse, and everything's all fine now. You should be able to leave by tomorrow."

Pete tilts his head to look at the doctor, and that's when he realizes all the extra people in the room.

Patrick.

Bronx. Saint. Declan.

Meagan. Elisa. Andy.

Joe. Marie. Ruby.

"Happy Birthday, Pete," they wish simultaneously, a smile on their faces. No one notices when the doctor slips out of the room. Pete's eyes begin to tear up as he stares at everyone in disbelief. "W- what?"

"It's your birthday, Pete." Patrick smiles, standing close to him. "Did you forget?"

Pete gapes, mouth hanging open as he tries to find the correct words. "But… I thought everyone forgot my birthday."

He shifts his gaze to Meagan and Elisa. "You said you weren't in LA." Then, he looks to Andy. "And you don't live in LA."

Meagan goes to stand on Pete's other side, Saint in her arms. "We had to say that, Pete. We were planning on your surprise birthday party."

"And I flew here two days ago," Andy pats his leg, smiling comfortingly at the bed-ridden man. "I've been staying at Joe's place."

At the mention of Joe's name, he snaps his head to look at the guitarist, who grins at him. "We'd never forget your birthday, man. We're not that kind of people."

"F- Fudge…" Pete laughs as he rubs his eyes for any remnants of tears, filtering his words once again. "I seriously thought you forgot."

"Never." Patrick smiles, placing a kiss on the top of Pete's head. "We love you, Pete. Happy birthday."

"Happy birthday, Uncle Petey!" Ruby beams as she gestures for her mother to go near the bed, then crawls to sit on Pete's lap. Pete brushes her hair and kisses her head. "Thank you, Rubes."

"Happy birthday, dad!" Bronx sits on the bed next to Pete, hugging him before letting go. Meagan places Saint on the bed, and he walks slowly to Pete, kissing his cheek. "Happy birthday!"

His leg wobbles as he giggles, but Bronx catches him in time, settling him in his lap. Pete ruffles his eldest son's hair, grinning at the two of them. "Thanks, little men."

Everyone watches Pete and the three kids in content. Pete almost misses Patrick walking towards Elisa to take Declan from her, and his stomach sinks when Patrick walks back towards him with Declan.

He doesn't think he can ever forget the way Declan looks at him when he accidentally shouts his name. In fact, Pete will never forgive himself for raising his voice at a kid. _His stepson._

When Patrick tries to put his son down on the bed, Declan latches onto him, letting out a distressed cry. "Hey, hey. What's wrong?" Patrick asks softly, bouncing him in his arms to calm him down.

Pete's eyes are now glazed with tears, but he keeps them from falling. He couldn't stand seeing someone cry because of him. Take Punk'd for example. Even after he found out he'd been punked, the sad faces of the children floated on his mind for a few nights. Patrick, Joe, and Andy apologized to him every time they saw him, but that still didn't erase the guilt Pete felt. _What if everything was real? What if Pete really did destroy their Christmas?_

"I- I'm sorry," Pete says as he looks up at Patrick in apology, his voice tight to prevent it from breaking. "It- it's my fault. I just wanted to change his diaper, but he wouldn't stop crying, and I was- was tired, and I-" Pete swallows the lump down his throat, afraid of Patrick's reaction, "I- I accidentally raised my voice. I'm sorry, Patrick! I didn't mean to!"

He turns to Elisa, eyes pooled with tears. "Lisa, I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I would- I would _never_ do that to any kid. I love Declan."

The silence after is torturing for Pete. He doesn't know what Patrick and Elisa are thinking at the moment. What if Declan grew up fearing him? What if Elisa decided that he's not suited to take care of Declan? His breath is caught in his throat. Oh, God. _What if Patrick divorced him?_

"You didn't wake Declan up before you go, did you?"

Pete raises his eyes to look at Elisa, who arches an eyebrow in amusement at the flustered Patrick.

"I, uh, might have forgotten," Patrick admits sheepishly, hiding his face behind his son, who is spitting bubbles. "I woke up late, and everyone was already waiting."

"What?" Pete looks back and forth between the two, confused, just as everyone else is.

"Declan will throw a tantrum if he doesn't see me or Patrick in the morning. That's probably why he didn't stop crying," Elisa explains, shaking her head fondly at the man in fedora. She turns back to Pete, smiling. "It's not your fault, Pete. Don't worry. You're not the first to go through his little temper tantrum."

Pete has never been so _relieved_ his entire life! He had thought he'd really done it this time, but really, it turned out that Declan was just missing his _daddy._

"So, the reason why _I_ had to deal with Declan's tantrum is because _you_ forgot to wake him up?" Pete purses his lips, trying to look angry at Patrick.

Patrick raises Declan up so Pete couldn't see his red face. "Um. Sorry?"

Declan giggles and swings his legs, oblivious to what just happened in the room. Pete crosses his arms and raises his brows when Patrick peeks from the top of Declan's head to look at him.

"You owe me, Trick." And, because he feels like everything is okay now, he smiles at Declan. "Your daddy owes me. Isn't that right, baby D?"

Hearing the familiar nickname from a familiar face with a familiar voice, Declan squeals and claps his hands, and reaches for Pete.

And after a really long, tiring day, filled with cries and screams and pains and surgery and anxiety, Pete's face finally breaks out into a genuine grin as he takes Declan from Patrick.

"Happy birthday!"

**Author's Note:**

> Leave some comments!


End file.
